One Fort, Teufort, RED Fort, BLU Fort
by Grandiose Delusions
Summary: When one of the Engineer's projects malfunctions, both teams are transformed into babies. Their minds still stay… for now. Slowly, the already-evolved brain devolves back into childhood, leaving the mercenaries on a race against time to regain their adult bodies. Rated T to be safe. Credit for title image goes to the thumbnail pick of Baby Fortress 2 (a YouTube video).
1. Chapter 1: Casualty in the RED Base

_Yay for baby mercs! Inspired by Heavy's "Entire team, is BABIES," SFMTales' video (It's Play Time) and Meet the Pyro. As well as the wonderful Eight Mercenaries and a Toddler, written by our very own ChaosandMayhem. Enjoy… or don't, either is fine. *sobs in corner* when will my parents be proud of me_

 _Now just stop tryin' to mess with my DISCLAIMERS: I don't own anything here. If I did I'd be making hats. And more hats, and more hats, and more hats… Oh, yeah, and phlog buffs. NERFS, I MEAN NERFS._

* * *

Engineer had finally finished his newest contraption. After nine years in development, hopefully it would be worth the wait.

He was wrong.

The bulky machine, reminiscent of a Repair Node (he had scrapped that long ago), sat within the Texan's workshop, taking up about a third of the room. The obscenely big machine sent out small clicks and whirrs, sounding somewhat like the intel room of Teufort. Pretty much Engineer's home.

He sat back in his Rancho Relaxo chair, sipping some Red Shed beer and admiring his machine. His newest success (hopefully), the Respawn mechanic. But oh, this was so much better. Almost instantaneous revival, a speed and invulnerability boost for several seconds, and cloaking during that time as well. It even revived you over your dead corpse. At least, it should, if everything worked out. The darn BLUs would finally be caught off guard. It was strange, fighting his exact copy, but they always seemed to be head-to-head. Finally, after so long…

To be honest, Engineer figured that the Administrator would definitely not enjoy his new toy. But she didn't matter to him anymore. It was common knowledge by this point that she was orchestrating the whole battle to generate more money for Mann Co. Still, the mercs fought - what else were they to do? They were mercs, for Gaben's sake. And the salary was good. They had already earned enough to support their future great-grandchildren (if, indeed, they decided to have children). So why stop now, while they were in their prime?

The Tex shook his head. Damn it, he kept going off on a tangent nowadays. He may have stayed up all night for four days straight, but that was a normal occurrence when he was working on a project. Maybe he should go see the Medic. But enough dilly-dallying - time to show his team the new Respawn. The hulking machine had been built on a large wooden platform, with four wheels underneath. With enough forethought, the Engineer mused, one could do anything, including moving a giant piece of technology into Teufort's courtyard. He pulled out his infamous one-button remote and took a deep breath. Time to test this.

Beep.

As Engineer's gloved finger hit the red button, the entire back wall of the workshop opened up, light shining in. The brilliance would've blinded anyone not wearing welding goggles. As it was, the Engineer grinned as the big Respawn machine slowly rolled down a ramp he had prepared. Curving around, the skateboard (yes, that's what we're going to call it) rolled to a slow stop in the direct center of the courtyard.

Engineer did some routine checks and patted the machine. "Good as new - looks as if it was built just today." He winked, though no one could see it through the heavily-tinted goggles.

Now for the hard part.

He had to round up the team.

* * *

One can expect, that, as a typically soft-spoken man, the Engineer would have a pretty hard time rounding up all of the rowdy RED team, considering it consisted of a speedy caffiene-fueled Bostonian, an… eccentric… patriot that enjoyed hanging out with eagles, and an invisible Frenchman. As well as other slightly infuriating teammates. The Engineer sighed. At least he could count on the firebug being in his… her… _its_ room. Strolling through the back halls of the base, he found the door marked with a flame insignia. Once upon a time, Engineer had walked in without announcing himself and was met with a burst of flame that sent him into the Medic's infirmary for three days. And it was the weekend, too, so the Medic couldn't even use his Medigun to fix him up, since it was the ceasefire.

Carefully, the Engineer rapped on the door. A even-more-muffled "Mpp?" reached Engineer's ears.

"Uh, hey, Pyro. Y'all about done settin' things in fire there?"

The door opened, revealing the fully-suited man… woman… _person_ (honestly, the Spy once said that the Pyro slept with it on) still obsessively flicking a lighter. "Mmph mmph mph."

"Good mornin' to you too. Listen, I got a new project ready for the team, can ya help me get some of 'em?"

The Pyro stroked _its_ chin. "Mmph, mph huddah mph mph Mmph, Mmphmmph, Huddah, mph Huddah mph."

"Alright, you go get Scout, Sniper, Heavy, and Medic. I'll hunt down the rest of the team."

That left the elusive Spy, the drunken cyclops, and the patriot. Somehow, he was going to have to find them. Oh boy.

By the time Engineer rounded up Soldier and Demoman, Pyro had already corralled the rest of the REDs. One remained: Spy.

Now, the only one on good terms with the Spy was the Heavy as of late, as the other teammates had managed to offend the man. Engineer had managed to convince the hulking Russian to hunt down the rogue.

"Fine. But Heavy does not like this situation. Engineer owes friend favor."

Now, after a lot of goading, and several Sandviches later, the entire team was sitting in the shade, grumbling and waiting. The Engineer made his announcement to a slightly distracted, slightly grumpy, but still very eccentric group.

"Now, I know, all y'all want to know what this here contraption is. And let me elucidate it to ya. Ya see, this is a Respawn apparatus. Its prime power antecedent is this -"

The Demoman hurled an empty scrumpy bottle at the Engineer. "Get on with it, ye bloody toymaker!"

Engineer dodged the trash and sighed. "Now listen here, Demo, those companies use dead rats in their scrumpy. Drunk on the battlefield ain't no way to be, son. Now, where was I? The prime power antecedent is this Über component -"

"IN AMERICAN, MAGGOT! WHAT YOU ARE SPEAKING IS NO LANGUAGE FOR A TRUE TEXAN TO SPEAK!"

"Uh, it is English…"

"WHAT? DO NOT EVEN SPEAK OF THAT COUNTRY TO ME! WE ARE AMERICAN MEN, DAMN IT, SO WE SPEAK AMERICAN. ENGIE, I THOUGHT YOU WERE SMART! RIGHT, HEAVY? WE ARE AMERICAN MEN TOGETHER, AND SO WE SPEAK AMERICAN!"

Medic sighed. "Vonce again, Soldier, ve are not all American here. Heavy, for instance, is -

The Heavy elbowed the Medic and gave Soldier a forced grin. "Dah - I mean, yes! We are American together!"

"Would you all just - fine! I'll give you the simpleton's version. This thing is a super-beefed up Respawn!"

The Soldier instantly brightened up. "YOU MEAN, I'LL BE ABLE TO KILL MORE OF THOSE BLU TEAM MAGGOTS?"

"Yeah, but it's not tested yet, and so I'd like to turn it on in the next battle. Just so that we have it on hand -"

The Soldier jumped up and shoved the Engineer away. "I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE - I MEAN TEST SUBJECT!"

The Engineer tried to get up off the floor, but a sudden burning feeling erupted through his head and he fell down again. "No, Soldier - ow - ya don't understand, it's not safe…"

The Spy could only look on with amusement as the Soldier frantically searched for an on button. "Uh, Soldier - zee button is on zee ozzer side," he said casually.

Dell Conagher cursed. "No, Soldier!"

Before anyone could react, the Soldier had jabbed the button and launched himself into the sky with a rocket, flying down at terminal velocity and firing a rocket downwards. Surprisingly, the insane patriot calculated correctly and the rocket hit the ground at the same time he did, blowing him into bits. The Respawn mechanism began to whir and flash.

By this point, the Engineer was out cold and no one knew what was going on. Scout ran around screaming "ohmygodohmygodi'mtooyoungtodiemedicübermepleaserunawayohmygod" as everyone else stood stock still for a second. Then the courtyard erupted into pandemonium, with some of the less stable mercs bursting into hysterics.

Then, the machine exploded.

* * *

 _Teehee cliffhangers._

 _Constructive criticism is helpful. But no random critiques. I HATE RANDOM CRITS._

 _EDIT: Thanks to Phun House for the first kind review, and xXALCHEMYFREAKXx for the second! Sorry for the nonexistent update schedule!_


	2. Chapter 2: The Great Com-Mission

_Chock full of references (one reference) to other fics, filled to the brim with a delicate mix of drama and stupidity (mainly stupidity), it's 1F2FRFBF (what even is this thing)!_

 _Wow, that's a mouthful. I need a better way to abbreviate this story._

 _May I borrow your earpiece? This is Scout, DISCLAIMERS make me cry!_

 _But seriously, I don't own this stuff. If you think I am Gaben: you are mistaken, puny mortal._

* * *

To make a long story short, everyone died.

Instead of exploding into bloody gibs like the Soldier decided to do, they simply winked out of existence. It was as if they had never existed. For several moments, the courtyard was quiet, and only a few broken chunks of metal lay on the ground, smoking.

It seemed as if the RED team had died. For good.

* * *

The BLU Scout was bored. Batting a ball all by yourself cannot entertain anybody for long. He has already asked everyone on the team but no-freakin'-body would play ball with him. Frustrated, he batted his ball as hard as he could towards the RED fort. Screw the ceasefire.

Time seemed to slow down as a rumble shook the ground. A quick jet of flame burst out of the balcony and scorched his ball, sending it flying back at him. The Scout ducked, the ball barely whizzing by his head. Was that an explosion?

A bloody arm answered his question. The charred thing landed on the floor right next to him. Upon quick inspection it was the RED Soldier's. Ugh, what even were they doing? He averted his eyes. Maybe he should go check it out. With a quick hop, he jumped onto the bridge cover, sprinting in the direction of the courtyard.

All that was left of the explosion was the charred skateboard. And a few burnt embers. Nine smoking metal pieces, still hot to the touch. Some Soldier gibs, as well as his rocket launcher.

A crackling noise persistently pierced the air, reminding the Scout of some sort of Über-ready Medic. He whirled around, holding his bat. Why the hell didn't he bring any guns? (I mean, of course he brought his awesome _guns_ that he worked on for several weeks, but in this case, firearms. But his arms _were_ firearms, they were so buff. Ugh, you know what? I said weaponry. Forget this entire section.)

Nothing. Just a slight breeze. The Scout sighed. Sometimes he just got too jumpy. He turned back around. Time to put on the thinking cap and ignore that noise.

Pulling out his infamous Sherlock hat, the young Bostonian began to think. "Well, Sherlick always had som'body to say 'Elementary, my dear Watsin.' to, so I betta pull Pyro inta this." He ran back to hunt down the masked pyromaniac. What he failed to notice (what a defective detective, am I right?) was that the nine chunks of metal had begun to slowly magnetize together, crackling and sizzling with licks of red Übercharge energy.

Condensing into a large metal sphere, a bright light and searing heat began to emanate from the foreign object. The grass around it promptly died, and soon the cardboard cow began to moo. The clouds in the sky dissipated, and the sun seemed to waver and flicker for several seconds. The BLU Scout felt none of this, busying himself with thinking up ways to be a detective.

All of the brilliance and warmth created by the metal sphere was instantly ripped away from this world and back into it, landing on the ground with a dull thud, all occurrences returning to normal. The grass came back to life, with newly sprung flowers peeking out from beneath the sea of green. The cardboard cutout resumed its previously-inanimate state, with a cleaner sheen of paint. The clouds returned, providing shade for the sweaty BLU mercs. The sun shined ever brighter, piercing the thick cloud layer here and there. A light breezy drizzle punctuated the springtime feeling, and every single one of the BLU mercenaries, in varying states of grumpiness, felt their spirits lift ever so slightly.

The metal sphere had been melted clean by the heat, turning into a perfectly smooth sphere, flawless on all sides. Unbeknownst to the BLUs, their favorite enemies hadn't enjoyed the springtime feeling and were suffering, much, much worse than they had expected.

* * *

The Soldier regretted killing himself. Contrary to popular opinion, his insanity was only on the surface. He had been keeping up the act for so long, though, he sometimes felt truly insane. Really? Suicidal acts? It was like he had two separate personas: Crazy-Insane-Patriot and spy. Not The Spy, just a spy. Infiltrating the ranks of the REDs was easy enough. Half of the men could barely read.

Why was he here again?

Oh, there's the obvious answer, that he was hired by the Announcer to keep tabs on his team to make sure they weren't getting ahead of the BLUs. His job description included destroying advancements or reporting them to the Announcer if necessary. The fancy doohickey invented by Dell was nothing against a well-placed rocket.

As the Soldier floated in the murkiness before Respawn, he thought carefully.

The obvious answer remained. And maybe it _was_ the answer. But seeing the pandemonium he caused as well as the pain to the Engineer, perhaps it wasn't the answer anymore.

Why was he here?

The truth, laid out to its bare bones, was that he had grown fond of the men he had fought with, bled with, eaten with, lived with. The truth was that he didn't want to be a spy anymore. But how could he reverse that?

It wasn't possible.

So this thought, floating through him, grounded him back to reality. Damn, he just can't escape his inner demons. Just focus on the task.

Respawn pulled him back to life like a lifeguard desperately, frantically grabbing for a drowning baby.

That's because he _was_ a drowning baby.

* * *

The world flashed a bright blue when the sphere touched the ground. It slowly spread out over the land, enveloping everything and freezing the time as it went. The sun stopped in the sky, the fires stopped wavering, the crickets mid-chirp. The Scout was frozen as he knocked on the door of the Pyro's cabin, Heavy mid-bite of a delicious Sandvich.

All of that changed.

The world became a mix of blistering desert, snow-bitten tundra, rotten cityscapes, and reclaimed land. The sphere blew apart into three pieces and flew across the world. And smack dab in the middle of it stood eight hapless baby mercenaries.

Well, not really stood, per se. Engineer was still out cold, and the Demoman was too drunk to stand up, so he just sat down, diaper quickly filling with sand.

Even so, all of the mercs were in a line, staring at the new world they had been thrust into in shock. With the exception of Engineer, that is.

The first one to break the stunned silence was Spy.

"Well. We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto."

Upon hearing his childish voice, the Frenchman slapped a gloved pudgy baby hand to his mouth. "Oh no…"

The Scout laughed. "Now Spy's a bed-wettin' lil' kid! Ahaha! Sucka!"

Meanwhile, Heavy was laughing his head off. Figuratively, that is. "Scout really is tiny baby man!"

Then, the Heavy looked around. "ENTIRE TEAM. IS BABIES!" he proclaimed, shouting it to the four winds and the sky.

"Ja, herr Heavy, I sink ve have figured it out now."

Engineer suddenly woke up, miniature hat slipping off of his head. "Wha - huh? Oh, hell. Did Soldier tamper with the Temporal-Warp G1700?" The Texan looked down at his hands. _Is that… baby fat?_

"Oh, god damnit! Listen, we're going to need to put the three main pieces of the TWG1700 together."

The Scout sniffed. "Didja say the twig 1700?"

"Whatever. We're going to need to split up. To find the TWG."

"Twigs are easy ta find, Engie! We can stick together!"

Drawing in the sand, the Engineer outlined the plan. TF2: Now a sandbox game.

"Scout, Pyro, you two go find the Soldier and this piece. It should be located in the post-apocalyptic cityscape." A muffled groan and a mumbled "jeez, why do we get the hardest place?"

"Demo, Heavy, and I will go in search of the piece in the desert. Should be in a temple, last I checked."

"Medic, Sniper, and Spy, y'all head on down to the supposedly still-holding-dinosaurs-island."

The Sniper scratched his head. "Alroight, mate, but how'd ya know where all the pieces are?"

"The three magnetic poles."

"There are only two, herr Engineer."

"Not in this world." The sunlight glinted off of his goggles, and for a second one could see his eyes. "Determination" was a weak way to describe the look upon his face.

"We're getting our old bodies back."

* * *

The Soldier, safe in the hands of… Ms. Pauling? "Pauling? What are you doing here?"

The girl - woman (she seemed too young for this kind of business) seemed startled. "Soldier! Be quiet!" she hissed, softly. "The zombies might hear us!"

A green hand slammed up against the window, cracking it slightly and leaving behind a bloody smear. With a vicious word for poop, Ms. Pauling blasted the owner of that hand's head off, shotgun smoking. "Listen, Soldier. This is no time for your insanity. We're going to die because of the machine you destroyed. You need to fix it and bring us back to the real world."

Ms. Pauling, woman of all trades, washed the blood off her hands in the bathtub that Soldier was drowning in. She picked him up and pulled him up the stairs, slowly moving higher and higher. "This'll be our last rally point. Do you have any weapons? Oh, no - you're a baby. Here." Shoving a flare gun into his hand, she whirled around and stared at the window. "If any of your teammates find us we need to join up with them. There is no way we're going to make it out alive otherwise."

* * *

Scout hung onto the Engineer's leg like a parasitic maggot. "Aw, c'mon, Engie! I don't wanna go with Mumbles! Why do I have to go in the group with less numbahs? Please, Engie!"

"For the last time, Scout, just do your stuff." With a dismissive pat on the head, the Engi-toddler waddled off to meet the rest of the team, all in varying states of anger.

"Heavy want to go with doktor." "Vhy do I have to deal vis ze manchildren?" the Medic complained, pointing at the Spy and Sniper mid-argument.

"Oh, shut up, ya stupid ainkle-boiter! Yer as disgusting as Oi am!" "At least I do not piss in jars! Filthy bushman!"

Demoman was elbowing Engineer. "I cahn't hold me scrumpeh bottle, Engie - it's too darn heavy…"

The Spy turned around, obviously done with arguing with Sniper. "Why are _you_ the leader of this… ridiculous expedition anyways?"

Engineer turned on his heel and marched up to the uncooperative Spy. Everyone pulled out popcorn buckets, eager to experience this Spy-whupping.

"Listen here, Spy. How do ya think I got this ROBOT HAND?" With a flourish, the Engineer whipped off his glove and threw it away. Without anyone knowing, the Pyro had picked the glove up and placed it upon its head.

The Spy, either unfazed or acting that way, stepped closer to the Engineer. "Because you appear to 'ave shoved your idiot hand inside one of your toys."

The robotic hand clenched into a fist, and before anyone could say "critical hit!" Spy was on the ground. "No, Spy. It was because I've been here before," the Engineer continued, coolly, "and maybe there _are_ some things worse than your attitude in this place, and _maybe_ _sometimes_ the world DOESN'T revolve around you."

By this point, Scout, Heavy, Demoman, Medic, and Sniper had all finished their popcorn buckets and were a) filming it on their mobile phones, b) trying not to laugh at Spy, or c) egging Engineer on.

"Alroight, Truckie! Give 'im the old one-two! 10/10 - IGN! Insert Overused Meme Here!"

"All of you. We stay here too long, the place begins to deteriorate. We need to get those pieces ASAP," the Engineer said. "I guess this is goodbye for now."

And with that, the three teams of RED mercenaries walked away in three respective directions. Heavy and Engineer dragging a drunk-but-soon-sober Demoman, Sniper and Medic dragging an out-cold Spy, and a pyromaniac with a glove for a hat.

*pretentious sniff* Heroes, my foot.

* * *

 _What will happen to our unlikely heroes? Find out next time in the next issue of the next book of the next part of the next story!_

 _That's not happening lol._


End file.
